17056/Scratch my Back...

Scratch my Back...
Date of Scene:	31 January 2024
Location:	Alley
Synopsis:	Robin confronts Flatline, FLatline asks him to give her a hand... Robin ends up saving the day.
Cast of Characters:	Flatline, Damian Wayne

---

Flatline has posed:
    It all started with a couple of graffiti markers. Pretty robins done up in a rustic sort of style in the paint, with little skulls with pink eyes. They looked almost like someone was trying to advertise some new POkemon thing. Also following was a sequence of numbers -- coordinates, and a time.

    The coordinates lead to a rooftop near a collection of shipping warehouses. The time?

    A snowy night. Large flakes fell over the city of Gotham, softening the noises of sirens and disguising footsteps.

    Flatline chose her locations well. There's plenty of shadows to hide in, and the air here was getting colder by the minute as a snowstorm moved in.

Damian Wayne has posed:
It only took a couple of them for Robin to notice and make note of. Decyphering them had been only a light task for him - but then he knew - someone wanted him to decypher the graffiti and find the message within.

And it all smells of trap. His arrival was probably expected from above, to be quiet.

Instead, as he arrives, it's by motorcycle, pulling up near the warehouse, he parks it, taking the keys and locking it down as he slips the engine pass into his utility belt. If someone wants this motorcycle, they'll have to physically pick it up and carry it off. And repair the engine.

The last block is covered on foot. He approaches the warehouse, slipping between the shipping containers, eyes behind the mask open and aware as the domino mask is fed information, a birdarang already in his hand in case it's needed.

Flatline has posed:
    Above him, there's a sign as he comes nearer to the warehouse.

    "Are you *always* this nervous about meeting a girl?" comes a familiar voice.

    Flatline is hanging upside-down from a fire escape. She shakes snow off herself, which had helped hide her heat signature in the darkness. She swings herself to perch on the rail of the fire escape... less bird like than something like a spider. Something with venom as she tilts her head. Her bangs are frozen, a little water frozen in an icicle clinging to it, beginning to melt with her body heat.

    "Soooooooooooooooooo ordinarily I wouldn't *ask*... but I got a feeling we have a mutual problem in that warehouse."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Only the ones that have made an attempt on my life in the past."

It's a flat responds, Robin looks up to the girl emerging from the snow and makes note of it. No telling how long she's been in 'hibernation', but if that is something she can do, he should probably make sure he adds it to his file on her.

And then she is making her ask and his arms fold over his chest. There's a frown that easily finds it's way onto his features as she points out that there is a mutual problem in the warehouse.

"And what makes you think I would want to assist you?" comes the next question, the words quite cynical from the young man.

Flatline has posed:
    "You don't." Flatline states with a grin on her black lips, and she shivers a little in the cold. "And... ah yeah, that's understandable, I guess. First time?" she questions, eyebrows rising up, and then she settles herself a little bit as she watches his frowny face.

    "There are about one hundred and thirty members of a Yakuza-backed group called the Black Hand -- total drama kings, I know -- in that warehouse. They're moving contraband into Gotham City, and gonna spread it through the tri-city area and send the profits back to my boss's competitor -- some jerk named Hiroshi or something. /I/ don't wanna do the work of facing a hundred fifty goons with guns. /You/ and your friends don't want a hundred and fifty dead bodies and a burning warehouse near some of these nice apartment buildings."

    They aren't really 'nice', but they do have people living in them.

    "So. I play by your rules mostly, an' we team up and take this operation down. What do you say?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Tch. Hardly." comes Robin's response. So not the first time someone's tried to killed him. Not the first time that a girl's tried to kill him either.

And then she lays out her thoughts and her plan. He listens, Robin paying intent attention to Flatline as she lays out her plan and exactly what the situation. "So to make sure I understand this right. You. Who tried to kill me. And took something I took from someone else, now want me to help you with an errand that your boss has sent you on and your whole reasoning is that you think I would care?"

There's a huff of breath, showing in the air as a soft white cloud as he turns to walk away.

"Good luck."

He's not really going to bail on her, is he?

Flatline has posed:
    "I, who tried to get you to leave me to my job, want your help, so that I don't end up killing a bunch of people, in your city, and having to burn down the house. My boss sees I got in trouble with a bat and had to bail before destroying the contraband? It's fine. He'll /bitch/ about it but what can you do, bats." Flatline states, and she rubs the back of her neck. "But hey, I mean, the city *supposedly* cut off all the fifteen gas lines that went to the place, what're the odds that they're still in oepration?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
There's an almost audible roll of Robin's eyes behind his domino as he considers her words and their implication. Yes, it would be a big mess. Yes, he'd have to explain it to his father. But. She wants to try to play his code against him?

He holds out his hand to her. Accepting the idea?

"The sword."

It's a simple demand. "You want my help, you return what you took. And then we deal with this on my terms. Or we can have it out right here in the snow and we will probably alert everyone in that building what is going on. And it gets messy."

Flatline has posed:
    "Don't have it on me. This was supposed to be a light duty job, but as usual someone in the chain of command messed it up." she states, her pinkish-purple eyes giving a mischievous sparkle. "And I'd be down to stab you again, buuuuuuut I get the distinct feeling a different white-haired-assassin-lady would be kinda pissed off. Y'know." she stretches her arms ove rher head "But aaaah, fights in the snow, that's nostalgia for me. First time someone tried to take my life~" she sing-songs "BUt for reals. I don't have time to brood or babysit you, you're either helping me, or you're not. Simple as that, Robin." she states, and she leaps across the alleyway from her perch on the fire escape, catching against a window, and she swings herself up to the next hand hold, and then is up and over the roof -- unless he moves to catch her.

    "We can talk about the sword afterwards!"

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Tt."

That is Robin's response as he watches the girl fly off on her own. A slight grumble arises from him. Was he such a... brat at her age?

Yes, yes he was. It was only three years ago, after all. A roll of his shoulder to test the injury that the suit hides after she's out of sight and he lets out a breath.

Reaching behind him into his cape, he withdraws a second sword. This one is shorter, made for his build and fighting style. A Themysciran blade. One blade was gifted to him by his grandfather as proof of what and who he was. The other was given to him by a dear friend.

Guess which one he likes better?

With her on the way, he moves forward on the ground, finding the soft spot in the defense. A door that is between the entrance and the loading docks, lightly guarded,

A pair of bolos later, he's jimmying the lock to slip within the building and glancing up to see where Flatline's shadow appears. He's sticking to the shadows, himself, only the slight flare of the yellow inside of his cape occasionally visible as he moves.

Flatline has posed:
    No. He was worse. So much worse. Probably.

    Damian's first alert that Flatline had made her way inside through a different route was the rapport of gunfire. A few short curse words shouted in Japanese and English, and a pop of smoke bomb. It's pepper scented, and it's oging to make anyone who produces mucous REALLY unhappy in their nose, eyes and mouth.

    A few figures stumble. Disarmed. Well. They don't have their weapons. They also have shards of glass through their right hands. But they're alive.

    A chair is thrown across the doorway, knocking the glass doors open and revealing shipping containers, boxes and boxes and boxes of items, dim lights, and Flatline's outline as she looks over her shoulder at Robin, and gives a smile.

    An actual smile, to be clear, not one that's teasing or vicious or even maniacal.

Damian Wayne has posed:
As soon as Flatline is popping smoke, Robin is putting on a rebreather. He knows better. He knows so much better by now. Once the mask is modified, he's on the move. As someone is going for the automatic rifle, he comes down on them with the flat of the blade, disarming them and knocking the weapon away.

As he cuts loose, the Batling takes to the dancefloor (albeit the warehouse floor), attacking and defending. A punch or kick catches him now and again, be he is showing far more proficency amongst this mob of criminals than he did at some girl's sweet 15.

An elegant twist backwards and as they attempt to swarm Robin, a grapple gun is fired into the rafters as he's lurched upwards. A pair of smokebombs are thrown at the peremiter - he's not just herding them into a single location, but he's also making it so that any that want to go after Flatline only have a thin, obstructed view of where she is.

Her smile is not quite return, only a slight rise at the corner of the thin lines of his face as he focuses on the attacking Yazuka.

Flatline has posed:
    It's not quite Murder on the Dance Floor, since Flatline agreed to play by the Bat rules. No killing.

    Bats at notoriously fuzzy on the subject of kneecaps, however. Flatline has gotten a hold of one of the weapons, and is procedurally laming others as she goes, popping clips out of weapons and discarding them Away. A smashed knee there. Broken wrist there.

    "Ugh. Aren't there. Any body. Here that. Can actually --" she trails off, and with a growl on her face teeth bared, she reaches with a bare hand to grab at someone's chest, and there is a pained yelp before she tosses him away.

    "I mean I'm up to twenty-seven Robin, what about you?" she calls out.

    There's someone who comes after her with a knife raised, and she grabs a stool, turning it, and sweeping it with a sick CRACK under his legs as she breaks pretty much every bone in the guy's body.

    A group come after Damian. They have guns, but they've opted for baseball and cricket bats. They're all wearing white jackets with a patch with a black hand on it, and appear to be intent on ganging up on Damian to rob him of his mask. Someone dives to try and grab for his cape in the process!

Damian Wayne has posed:
And the minute that Flatline breaks that rule, there will be consequences.

And how the kneecap rule is applied depends on the bat in question. If it's Batgirl or Red Robin or one of the... good Bats, then kneecaps are avoided. They fight clean and nice and pretty. It's kinda gross.

If it's Red Hood or Damian, it's totally on the table, accepted and encouraged. As he drifts across the rafters as gunfire erupts, he responds to Flatline. "I am not keeping count."

Twenty-four. He's totally keeping count.

And as he comes down amongst the gunners, taking a few of them down, the black hand comes in. He feels the hard pull on his cape and he actually pulls forward - before he fells another hard yank and he leans back into it, a hard rolls as he kicks into the pile, they want to gang up on him, he's throwing punches, kicks and battling back with every fraction of his body, even ignoring the pain when a punch slams into his shoulder where he was shot a couple of days ago.

Flatline has posed:
R    Flatline won't break the rule as long as Robin's helping her. She fights dirty, using creatively placed incidental weapons. Distractions. Guns if needed. She goes in for low blows and sack taps and kicks to the junk to make sure people stay down.

    And after a good long while, even she's a little winded, but they're surrounded by incapacitated people. She brings her hood down and runs her hands through her hair -- someone grazed her with a knife. She's bleeding along the left side of her face, but she gives a perky grin in Robin's direction, and then kicks over some of the boxes to expose what they were importing...

    Fake. Sanrio. Items. Hello Kitty bullshit. Aggretsuko plushies. FOlders and school supplies and key rings and all manner of cheaply made but highly sellable stuff.

Damian Wayne has posed:
As the battle winds down, Robin's managing to hold his own and takes a seat on one of the crates. Part of his domino mask is torn and she can see a hint of his middle-eastern descent, even if his skin tone didn't totally give it away.

A blown out breath as he watches Flatline head over to a crate to knock it over. He expected drugs, money, weapons... nope. It's all you need to open a Dollar Store chain in Gotham.

"Uuuuugh." he grumbles, as he picks up one of the toys, turning it in his hands and tosses the Aggetsuko at Flatline. "Not even real. Cheap knockoffs." he grunts in frustration. "You said this was your boss' idea?" Asked with a :| face.

Flatline has posed:
    "Yeah." Flatline states as she kicks up an Aggretsuko plushie, a very angry red panda office lady, and then she wriggles it at Damian with "DEAAATH METAAAAAL!" said at him in a squeaky voice, before she stuffs it in her backpack, and then walks over to one of the big containers, the kind they put on the decks of shipping ships.

    "How much you wanna bet there's like, giant plushies in here? If there's a *Snorlax* or a Lapras, I am totally taking one." she states, and she knocks her knuckles against the door.

    ... and something... very meekly... knocks back. Her eyes go wide, and then her brows knit.

    "Uh.... did you hear that?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Give me his address, I'll ship it all to him."

Lame, but worth a shot. And Robin was about to say more when there's the knocking from the crate. "I did." he says, hoping off his crate as he drops a birdarang into his hand.

Now that he's ready, he gives a nod to Flatline, telling her it's good to open the crate.

Flatline has posed:
    "Yeah I'm not that dumb." Flatline flatly replies, "I can let the GOtham PD handle this stuff. I mean, they can always use it for fundraising, right?" Flatline states, and she braces herself. She jumps up and down a couple of times and then, with a grunt of effort, she reaches up and pulls the door of the container open, unlatching it from the outside.

    Dark eyes inside blink.

    The smell that comes out of there is a mix of despair and human refuse and the iron tang of old blood. Almost everyone is covered with dirty clothes and looks thin. They range in age from infants that begin to sob and cry in the arms of their mothers to grandparents...

    "... holy shit." FLatline states, her eyes going wide. "They were trafficking contraband and *people*." she whispers, and stumbles over a couple phrases in a couple languages, and then appears to give up.

    "The living are totally not my bag. You got this, Robin?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Anak mean sovotthephap." (You are safe.) Robin clearly understands what language they're speaking as he takes out his flashlight to scan the inside of the shipping container. "I'm already in contact with the Gotham PD." He's already reached out to Oracle to roll police and rescue.

"So if you're going to disappear, now's the time to do it. I'll remain until I know the authorities have shown up." This is where he should praise her, right? There's a pause as he considers his words. "I will keep this in mind in the future." he finally concedes.

Flatline has posed:
    And she's gone.

    Flatline has disappeared while Damian was focused on something more important.

    A young girl rushes out and hugs Robin tightly around his middle. "Robin! Robin!" she cries out, because around the world, not just in the US, not just in Gotham, Batman and Robin mean that the people are safe. There are knocking on the other two shipping containers in the warehouse.

    Everyone would know that Robin was the hero, having taken down a huge amount of bad guys to free them...

    Robin would have to live with the knowledge that if he hadn't been with her, Flatline might have burned the warehouse down with them in it.